


blood and rain

by bitingandbacktalk



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), Spiderverse - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dead People, Death, Fighting, Gore, M/M, Peter B Parker - Freeform, Plot What Plot, Smut, Spiderman noir - Freeform, but these two are gross and lovely and my otp, i didn’t proof read it apologies, porn with no plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 06:19:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18115022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitingandbacktalk/pseuds/bitingandbacktalk
Summary: peter’s 38, noir’s 22. plot, what plot.





	blood and rain

Blood.

It was something Noir was uncomfortably used to by this point; something that used to make him shudder and freeze up with terror, the disgusting warm thickness of it used to make him bend over and choke up what little lined his stomach.

Now the Detective didn’t even bat an eyelid as it splattered his mask, his coat. It would be washed away by this endless rain soon anyway, there would be no chance for it to get dry enough to stain.

He pulled his mask up, off, using that same hand to wipe the blood away from his lips, mildly noting the familiar taste of the stuff on his tongue. Cut his lip.

Noir drops his gaze to the several dead Nazi’s on the rooftop, before it flickers back up to Peter. Peter B Parker. Who’s red suit is almost blindingly strong against the washed out monochromatics of his universe. 

“Thanks.” His voice makes the other man look up, from where he’s tugging his own mask off. Peter moves across to Noir, stepping over the bodies like they’re nothing, taking note of the cut on the Detectives lip, that’s weeping blood down his pale chin. Noir’s grey eyes widen a tad as he feels Peter’s hand cup his sharp jaw, thumb gently brushing against the cut. He looks up at the older man, brows pushing together into a slight frown. 

Noir only just notices the slight curve of Peter’s mouth, the shadow of a smirk, before the older Spiderman is crowding him up against the cold brick of a wall- the stairwell? Noir can’t quite remember, can’t quite be bothered to remember because a second after he’s pushed against the perhaps stairwell by Peter’s strong hands, the mans lips are what’s pushing him into the wall.

Peter kisses bruisingly hard, long fingered hands finding their place on Noir’s narrow hips, pinning him to the wall. His tongue dips out, tasting the blood smeared across the Detectives lower lip as he keened out in pleasure. Noir’s hand finds its way to Peter’s hair, leather clad fingers curling against the wet, dark strands. His spare hand, which is still clutching his mask, grips onto Peter’s red suit, pushing up to meet the mans bruising kiss, with award winning enthusiasm.

Noir pulls back to catch his breath, the Detective breathing low and hard as Peter moved to his throat, yanking down the turtleneck to kiss and bite the pale skin. “Peter,” he choked out, looking at the man through those stupidly long eyelashes, mouth open and panting. “Hang on-“ “No.” Peter murmurs in response, lips searingly hot against the younger mans neck, a hand still pinning his hips to the wall. “I want you here, baby.” 

Noir arched an eyebrow, trying to fight past the shaky feeling that god awful pet name always drowns him in. “In the rain? With the dead Nazi’s just there? Kinda dirty, ain’t it?” Peter’s laugh is almost bitter, and Noir can feel the smirk against his clavicle. “Exactly.” Another few seconds and Peter’s lips are on his again, the older man easily swallowing Noir’s needy little moans and whimpers.

This is the one area the Detective is so innocent in. He’s still so young, almost half Peter’s age. And it’s not like being gay is something you can be public about in this timeline. Peter’s been the only person he’s ever done anything with. Which makes it feel so much more special. Noir kisses him hard, pushing up into it, combing his fingers through the mans hair. He bites down on Peter’s lip, smirking faintly at the guttural noise he gets in reward. He can feel the man hard against his hipbone. Noir drops his mask, wet, bloody fingers dropping down, pressing against the mans length through the thick material of his sweatpants.

Peter’s hips push into his touch instantly, head ducking to press his forehead against the Detectives shoulder, groaning out a low ‘good boy’ against his neck. Noir preened faintly at the praise, slipping a hand into Peter’s sweatpants, before pulling them down his thighs, along with his boxers. He presses a leather clad palm to the mans stomach, admiring the new muscle there. “Someone’s been working out again.” He retorted with a snicker, earning a bite and a light shove from Peter, but he can feel the smile in it. The older Spider shivered just slightly at the feel of the hard rain against his now bare skin, but he’s distracted by Noir’s delicate hand now wrapping around his hard cock. 

Peter hisses sharply against the Detectives throat, able to hear the loud thrumming of Noir’s heartbeat, hips shoving forwards messily. “Steady.” Noir whispers, his own voice anything but as he began to pull his hand up and down Peter’s shaft, dark brows pulled together. He’s watching his own hand, entranced. They’ve only done this a handful of times, but the 30s man has always been a quick learner. He’s eager to please. He twists his wrist gently at the end of each tug, pulling at Peter’s hair until the man lifts his head- capturing his lips again needily.

Peter kisses him without complaint, panting and groaning against Noir’s lips, as the younger man pulled him off eagerly. It’s disgusting, in reality. Disgusting. They’re both soaked to the skin, blood splattered across their clothes and hair, and there’s at least half a dozen dead bodies sprawled across the wet concrete behind Peter. It’s vile, dirty, and dark, pretty much exactly like Noir’s universe as a whole. And it feels perfect. 

Peter’s undoing Noir’s belt and pants before the Detective even realises, messily shoving them down his thighs. He pulls away from the kiss, hazel eyes dark and narrow, watching as he shoved a hand into the mans boxers, groping him and purring lowly. Noir hisses, jerking in Peter’s touch, a hand planted firm against the mans chest. Peter pulls Noir’s cock out, and slips his huge hands under the mans grey thighs, hoisting him up into his arms with a soft groan. “Like this baby,” He hummed lowly, pressing open mouthed kisses against Noir’s jaw as he adjusts, legs hooking around Peters hips. 

The 30’s man definitely has no complaints, and his hand pulls away from Peter’s cock, tightly gripping at the others bicep as he bucked his hips forward, hissing out at the feeling. “Shit,” he muttered, as Peter pushed forwards, grinding their cocks together. It felt too fucking good, and Noir was arching forwards, scratching at Peter’s arms, wanting more of that delicious feeling. He could hear nothing but the blood pumping in his head, the rain splattering, and Peter’s hard heavy breathing. Couldn’t focus on anything besides that glorious feeling, his long legs tightly winding around Peter’s waist, grinding his member against the other mans as he buried his face against Peter’s neck.

The other’s neck was scratchy, due to all the unshaven hair there. Noir liked it, liked the rough coarse feel against his face. Liked how he could feel Peter’s heartbeat thrumming against his cheek. The older man pushed close against him; holding him up against the wall easily, hissing and panting against his neck as he rutted both of them to the brink. “Peter- Peter fuck-“ Noir choked out through gritted teeth, his fingers leaving a bruising grip on the Spidermans arms. “Thats it, baby,” Peter murmured in response, his voice wrecked, pushing his hips forwards roughly as they both finally reached their end. Noir was first, crying out and scratching at Peter’s back- and Peter crooned to him as he finished, grip bruisingly tight. 

They both stayed still for a minute or two after, breathing an uneven mess, until Noir slowly loosened his grip, and Peter sets him back down onto the pavement. They let go of each other, Noir wiping some of the cum coating his abdomen off with his wet glove, before pulling it off and chucking it aside. He redoes up his trousers and belt, and when he glances up Peter’s already done the same.

The older Spider looks mildly sheepish, which makes Noir snort, pressing soft kisses across his jaw. “That was..” “intense.” Peter softly finished, a hand finding its way to Noir’s hip, steadying the still shaky Detective. He snatches their masks up, turning to glance at the bodies. “Come on baby. Let’s scram.” Peter flashed him that half lidded, smirky grin of his which has Noir’s knees trembling, before he scoops him up, and drops off the side of the building with elegant ease. 

Time to find a warm shower.


End file.
